machinations of life ;;

“ oh, maji. . . ” does she love it ? of course ! the sentiment shared in his card invokes red hues tinting her cheeks.

as quick as their call went and ended abruptly, cogita relented, reclined back into her office chair and stared at the number longingly.

her bed had never felt so empty before today. no trace of Majima in plain sight, nor his oath brother saejima. familiarity of loss unsettles the melancholy maiden whom wraps herself in sheets to hide her forlorn visage.

no matter how hard cogita musters her resolve, her hardened fortitude crumbles under the weight brought upon by vivid recollections of a certain man absconding from her love. afraid of what could become of her if she let him in so freely.

was this it, then? nary a shred of evidence supports her current fear; he is gone. left again, and for how long? will she find him this time, or were they truly never meant to be?